


Spray Paint and Moonlight

by OnlyHalfSerious



Category: Power Rangers, Power Rangers (2017)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Graffiti, Kim's a tagger, One Shot, SO MUCH FLUFF, Trini writes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-02-08 16:51:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12868869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyHalfSerious/pseuds/OnlyHalfSerious
Summary: Trini and Kim go tagging past the abandoned railways.Just a fluffy one-shot with a dash of angst.





	Spray Paint and Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for my creative writing class and figured I should post it while I procrastinate.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Trini said, holding Kim’s backpack as they walked down the train tracks that hadn’t been used in years.

“Trin, this place is deserted, we’ll be fine,” Kim said, scanning for the broken wall that would let them hop into a pretty common tagging spot.

“I mean whatever, but, like, we almost died the last time, so...”

Kim sighed regretfully. “Okay, that time sucked, but we didn’t die, so we’re good. Come on, it’s gonna be beautiful, I promise.” She held out her hand to her tiny girlfriend.

Trini grabbed it, grumbling something softly. They reached the wall and Kim helped her over before climbing herself. The gravel crunched under their boots. Trini was glad she brought her over-sized jacket. She ran cold. Kim knew this cause she always curled into her at night, absorbing most of her body heat. She spent insomniac nights running her fingers through the shorter girl’s hair, picturing the same thing happening in random little rooms around the world. She dreamed of traveling the world with this worrywart of a girl.

They reached a good wall, according to Kim and Trini sat on a rock while Kim started with a can of white spray paint. Trini looked around cautiously from her spot, still nervous from the last time. The last time, the cops had come by and they ran off. Cops saw two small bodies in hoodies in a not-great neighborhood and shot before asking questions. They hid in an alley for several hours. Trini cried and Kim drew flowers on her hands and arms to make her feel better. Trini didn’t really blame Kim for the situation. It wasn’t Kim’s fault cops were racist, but it still worried her.

She sat back and watched her girlfriend designing her name on the wall. Trini knew her usual design. “Pink” in capitals with a pterodactyl flying in the middle. Trini had to admit her girlfriends artistic skill with a spray can was in a way enviable. She went hard. But Trini loved it more when Kim would break out the finger paint and they’d draw little symbols and figures on each other’s skin. Trini always had to resist the urge to draw words.

Trini looked up at the moon. It was full and shiny. Gave Trini a full view of Kim, this comforted and worried her. Trini scanned the area often as she took her notebook out of her pocket and started writing about the night and about the love of her life. She described the art and the way Kim moved with the paint. She described the paint that always dusted her jeans and ended up on her hands. It’d end up on Trini’s neck at times and on her face as Kim took hold of it to kiss her. She talked about the moon and how happy she was to share her love with such a protective force in her life. Trini looked up to Kim step back and look at her work. She did this often, looking at things from different places. Trini admired it because she did the same with her words. She often rewrote her sentences after themselves on the same page, creating a mental picture that moved and reshaped itself as time went on. She felt that words were like herself in that way.

Kim went back in and started spraying all over again. She used the white can to add depth to her art, and then used the black can to outline her defined shapes and outer edges. She liked a polished look even if people found her art to be a kind of vulgarity of city life. An artful delinquency. She felt her beauty and recklessness come together in her graffiti. This was who she was and no other space really gave her that comfort of self-expression.

“What do you think?” She said, holding out her pink painted hands to her art. Trini looked up and closed her journal. She looked at the work, wanting to run her fingers over it, wanting to be wrapped in that colorful manifestation of her girlfriend. She smiled and leaned against Kimberly.

“I love it,” she said softly.

Kim threw an arm over Trini and kissed her head. “You always say that.”

“That’s cause I always love it.” She held Kim’s hand, wanting to feel the paint on her fingers, to be a part of the creative process that brought forth such a creation. She felt the slick feeling of paint staining her fingers and her palm. She felt her skin in a new sense, it was slippery and fluid. She felt like she could become water if she wanted.

They both sat where Trini was before, looking at their wall, looking at their sky, their night. It was all theirs for a moment. No one to answer to. No rules to follow. Nothing to keep them from what they wanted. Trini looked from the moon to the girl she loved. Kim smiled and ran her palm over Trini’s cheek.

Lips met in this comfortable freedom. No one was there to call Trini an abomination. No one was there to tell Kim she’d be better off with some guy. No one was there to interrupt them, to keep them away from each other.

They sat in their comfortable silence, letting fatigue cover them and cradle them like a hammock. When Trini’s eyes started looking tired, Kim pulled on her backpack and took her girlfriends hand. They walked home, heavy footsteps in the gravel, an even heavier climb over the broken wall. Trini’s eyelids got heavier and heavy words tumbled out of her mouth with no restriction.

“I love you so much,” she muttered, too tired to move her mouth completely.

Kim smiled. “I love you too. We’re almost home,” she answered.

“You’re like the moon you know, you’re that beautiful. You just make me want to be such a better person. You know, like you’re just so inspiring. _Te_ _a_ _mo, de verras_.”

Kim blushed, enjoying how sleepy Trini could be mistaken a bit for drunk Trini, but more sentimental and more romantic. She pulled her in for a kiss before they stepped onto Kimberly’s street. Before stepping onto real life, before stepping closer into daylight.

They climbed up into Kimberly’s window and Trini dropped onto Kim’s bed, barely fighting sleep. She tried to take her shoes and jacket off, but only got about halfway before mumbling for Kimberly to help her.

Kimberly smiled at her small girlfriend who hated asking for help unless she was dead tired. Kim helped her out of her boots, jacket and jeans. She helped her into bed, setting her yellow beanie down on the nightstand and kissing her forehead. She smiled, running a thumb over a paint mark on Trini’s cheek. She went back to getting undressed herself and checking if her cans were filled enough for the next adventure.

When she was done she sat on her desk chair, thinking about life and about the sleeping girl in her bed. Little fantasies played in her head of them traveling and laughing around the world. Of them eating and falling even more in love. The insomniac in her reached for her sketchbook and a pencil. Just as she was about to draw the sleeping girl, like most nights before, Trini stirred. “Babe, come sleep. Come hug me.” Kimberly smiled and obliged like every night before.


End file.
